The Waters of Life
by SpadeMonkee
Summary: NOTE: References to alcoholism. Discretion advised. One journey. Sounds like it's been done say three times before. Well, this one's different. The lengths some will go to for a quick fix.
1. A Quick Fix

I was walking with my head low looking at the ground as I approached the lonely little settlement. I stopped just a few yards short of the first derelict buildings. I looked up at the sky; clouds were rolling in from the west. Looks like a storm's coming…That's not good, storms are never good. It's usually acid rain with a chance of burning. It doesn't rain very often here, but when it does it is heavy and dangerous.

A heavy wind blew from behind me forcing all the fabric of my clothing forward my duster, as heavy as it is, flapping like a bird's first flight. I had an itch on my left arm. I didn't bother trying to scratch it because I couldn't on account of my Pip-Boy. The damn thing's busted, though, so that irritates me more. I can't get it off for some reason. I've tried countless times. I even went so far as to almost chopping my hand off.

I walked through the town looking at the different people. You can tell a lot about a town just by the looks on their faces. These people were mostly friendly individuals, but they preferred that I get whatever I came for and leave. You can tell by the light smiles and the occasional nod. I planned on getting what I needed just as soon as I found where it was.

It started to get dark. I don't know if it was from the clouds or because it was evening. Damn Pip-Boy. Others took notice of the clouds as well and started disappearing into the surrounding buildings. I figured I'd do the same. That was when I came upon a jolly looking man with a thick white moustache that extended from cheek to cheek and ended in pointed curls. The man had his hands at his hips and his teeth out far. Even in the clouded gloom his teeth shone like light bulbs.

"Well, looks like we gots us another wanderer!" His potbelly bounced lightly as he spoke. "You look thirsty, young man, how bout I treat you to a drink? C'mon, first one's free!" I found what I was looking for.

The bar was cleverly called the Genie's Three. The jolly man, Redding, said all your wishes were here: booze, women, and a bed. I didn't care much for the last two, but I sure was thirsty.

"Well, what'll it be, Sir? Remember: first one's free." He leaned against the counter on one elbow his other arm still at his hip.

"Well, I don't know quite yet. What do you have?" I was sitting quite comfortably on a wooden stool whose padding was gone. It had uneven legs so it rocked.

"We gots whiskey, vodka, beer, and my personal favorite: the Genie's Three. Now that's a combination of all three."

"I'll start with the vodka, thanks." He winked at me and without taking his eyes off me grabbed a dirty shot glass and bottle of vodka from under the counter. He pushed the glass toward me and it stopped inches from the edge. A little vodka had spilled. I grabbed the glass and raised it to the man behind the counter and swallowed it in one gulp. I slammed the glass upside down on the counter and shook my head. It's been a while since I had some vodka. Now I remember why I stopped.

The barkeep chuckled a little. "You think that's strong!" He reached under the counter again without looking feeling around for something. "Here. Try this. I believe it's called 'tekwilla.'" He had a fancy-looking bottle in his hand with a brown liquid inside. I was enticed by the bottle. There was something about it that caught me by my lips.

"Where'd you find it?"

"Well, there were some empty bottles in the cellar when I found this place, so I hired some guys to find more. They came back with a crateful saying there's a whole mess of these down south. I paid a little visit to the place myself and found some ghouls wearing blankets like jackets and huge hats speaking a different language. I met someone who spoke English and that gibberish and had her translate. She insists that it says 'tekeela' but I'm an American and I know how to read."

"So those ghouls made this stuff?"

"Yup. They said it was a very lucrative business before the war. They say it still is."

"How much for a bottle?"

"How much you willin' to spend?"

"Enough to wet my lips?"

"Well, five caps for the first bottle 'cause I like you and fifteen for future bottles."

"Deal." I handed the man his caps and took the bottle from his hands. I placed it in the inside pocket of my duster and asked him for a room. He asked if I wanted a girl, "Why not? I want to test this new stuff out!"


	2. Hangover

I opened my eyes. Bright, hot sun was the first thing I witnessed forcing my eyes shut again. I was lying on something hard like a large rock. I turned over slowly realizing all the little pains my body endured. My head was pounding; the left side of my face felt like it was on fire. My ribs were cracking, my thighs were sore, and when I attempted to open my eyes once more I noticed my knuckles were raw.

I continued looking at the ground on all fours because my body felt like a super mutant used me as a baseball bat and the sun was still too bright. I stayed in that position for a while wondering what the hell happened. As I looked around I noticed an empty bottle of whiskey. It turns out I was laying on my gun; an old, dinky .38 revolver. All the rounds were used up apparently.

I finally worked up the nerve to face the brightness and the pain. I slowly stood one limb at a time regretting every movement. When I eventually was up on my two feet I holstered my revolver and felt around to see if I was missing anything. The bottle of tequila was still there and it looks like I only took a sip. My Pip-Boy, in all its glory, stayed attached to my left arm even after what had occurred the night before. I noticed there were some pretty serious burns on my exposed skin. Probably the acid rain.

The town wasn't too far off; you could barely see it behind the evaporating water. I made the trek back considering what may have happened. Apparently someone didn't want me in town, or alive for that matter. I wasn't too concerned with this; somebody usually wants you dead in the Wasteland.

When I reached the town the mood suddenly changed. Anybody who hadn't taken notice of me yesterday sure did today. And those who had weren't happy to see that I was alive. I figured the only place I'd be welcome was the Genie's Three.

When I approached the entrance to the bar I noticed the door wasn't attached to the wall anymore. I stopped at the threshold to observe the damage: from the looks of the splinters where the hinges used to be it seems that someone may have torn it off with their hands. It couldn't have been me because I'm just not that strong…someone bigger.

"Good to see you're alive!" the ever-so-friendly voice of Redding greeted me as I made my way in. He was cleaning the counter with dirty rag. "Well, you had some fun last night, wouldn't you say?"

"I would if I could remember." I looked around the bar. Yesterday it wasn't much of a place to look at; there were drunks sprawled everywhere and today was no different except all the chairs and tables were busted. The railing to the stairs that led to the second floor was broken as if someone fell through. "Do you know what happened?"

"Not the whole story. But I can give you something that'll clear things up." He went under his counter and brought a black bottle without any labels or markings. "It's a little something I concocted up for people trying to remember where they left their clothes." He poured a dark liquid into a large glass. "Now, you gotta drink that all there, buddy."

"Great." I gave him a look before I grabbed the glass and sniffed its contents. I nearly burst into tears and vomit. The smell was stronger than a brahmin with four heads. "Bottoms up." I drank the putrid liquid wondering what the hell it was in the first place. When I finished I forced the remaining ooze down my throat. I didn't bother asking what it was from fear of what it may be.

That's when my head began to spin; not a nauseating spin, but more of the spin you get when someone fires an assault rifle next to your ear for an extended period of time. The ringing in the ear was there, too. That's when it all came back to me


	3. Flashback

It was an ethereal experience tapping into my memories like that. I was witnessing everything through my eyes, but I didn't belong. It was like I was an invader of my own body. There was no sound either. I could only see what was going on.

First, I nodded to Redding and turned toward the now intact stairs. There was a woman waiting for me at the top of the stairs. I could feel my face smile as she mouthed something. She took me to a room near the back of the hallway on the second floor. When we were inside she immediately went to the bathroom and I placed my duster on the table at the edge of the room. I undid my pistol belt and placed it on the table, too.

I reached inside my duster for my glorious bottle and placed it on the table. The woman came out in some scanty sleepwear and mouthed something else. I smiled again and nodded. We went over to the bed and-

-I was sitting in a chair next to the table. The woman was fast asleep on the bed. I looked at my bottle tentatively. I don't know what it was that I was thinking, but I was probably contemplating going south and finding this whole operation. I grabbed it and opened it. I stopped and looked at it again, and then I took a quick swig. My head was suddenly released of all pressure and then came crashing weighing my spine down and at the same instant, my throat burned more than swallowing the sun, it seemed.

I tried getting up, but I fell forward immediately upon leaving my seat. I guess I was drunk. I dragged myself to the door and propped myself up against it. Once I found my legs, and my ability to walk, I opened the door and walked heavily to the stairs. I stopped short of the first step and debated the way down. I took the first step and went reeling over the edge onto a wooden desk. That explains the broken railing. As I got my bearings I noticed Redding was laughing so hard he was red.

I stumbled over to him knocking over chairs and bumping into fellow drunks. When I balanced myself on the edge of the counter I started forcefully pointing at him. Still chuckling, he mouthed something and I started laughing uncontrollably. I slumped down against the counter still laughing. Suddenly, I stopped.

I picked myself up again and made for the back of the bar. I found the door to the cellar in the kitchen. I opened it up and made another fateful step down the stairs just to fall forward. The cellar was poorly lit by some makeshift lamps. There were crates and crates of alcohol and large barrels of what I can only assume were more alcohol. I looked around, and gathering myself up, found a small metal door in the far wall across from myself.

Grabbing a bobby pin from my pocket, I made for the locked safe. Sixteen bobby pins later, I forced the door open and there it was: two crates of that godlike alcohol and a few papers and letters stuffed between them. Just as I was about to grab the papers a force against my side threw me far to the left. It probably would have hurt horribly if I was sober, but luckily I was in a drunken daze.

The source of the force was in the darker part of the cellar. I grabbed one of the lamps and pointed it toward the area. Super mutant. He was angry, too. He probably would have ripped me in two if he wasn't chained up. He began gnashing at me trying to reach for me. I slowly reached for the contents of the safe grabbing one of the crates and knocking it over to the ground. Two bottles shattered, but the rest were okay.

I grabbed a bucket and started pouring the bottles inside. I pushed the bucket slowly toward the behemoth (He wasn't really a behemoth) with my foot. The super mutant suddenly calmed and observed the bucket. He grabbed it and swallowed its contents in one gulp. He made the same face that I likely made when I tried the stuff. He tried getting up but lunged forward face first onto the floor. The chains suddenly burst at different points freeing the beast.


	4. Another Quest

That's all that occurred. The rest of what happened slowly faded in this black haze. I eventually found myself standing in front of Redding. He smiled wider than everyone in the wasteland. "Well, what'd you think?" He started shaking his head in that I'm so ashamed it's funny way.

"What else happened? I only got to the part where I gave the mutant some of the drink." He suddenly gave me a somewhat stern look. Then he smiled again.

"There was some banging goin' on downstairs. Then it was quiet. Then, you came in riding atop the damn thing yelling 'Free the slaves!' and 'Cross the bridge!' and some other nonsense. You trashed the place, fell off of him, and went charging up the stairs. You came back down in your getup and jumped on his back again and went for the door." He sighed lightheartedly, "I've never seen anything like that in my life. You got quite a problem."

"Heh, yeah." I looked around at the mess I made. "How many caps?"

"Don't worry. You gave me something to laugh at. To me, that's worth more than all the caps in the world." He sighed again and then looked at me seriously. "I take it you have a mission, now, huh?"

"I guess so. And you don't mind?" I gave him a deep stare, hoping to see through his upbeat attitude for an agenda, but all that was standing before me was an honest man.

"Me? Hello no. The stuff'll come whether you go there and drink it all to hell or not. I'm not in the profiting business; I just give these sad stories something to do on an otherwise dull and depressing day. Good luck, friend. Hopefully, you find what you're really looking for before you get to that." He points at the bottle inside my duster.

"Thanks. I guess I'll be on my way, then."

"Yup…oh, and your friend is upstairs."

"What? Who?"

"Genie. The mutie."

"Oh. Really?" I gave him an astonished look. He just nodded and went about his usual business.

I walked slowly to my room. As I rounded the corner I noticed this door was also ripped off the wall. Inside, there was a super mutant fast asleep on a bed way too small for it. He was sucking his thumb and snoring loudly. His feet extended far beyond the edge of the bed. I thought it better to wait for him to wake up on his own.


	5. The Diplomacy of Dansfield

I had no idea where I was going. All I knew is that it was south from where I was. I had a Super Mutant following me there, too. Looking out toward the hot wasteland; miles of sun-baked dirt claiming the life of any poor bastard who forgot to pack water, I looked up at my behemoth companion and set off.

For about an hour we walked in silence. I never encountered a Mutant up close, so this was a first, and I don't know too much about them to begin with, so I wasn't too sure they could communicate aside from grunts and groans. "Do you talk big guy?"

He looked down toward me as we moved. I would have been afraid that I had insulted him if I hadn't known that they always looked angry. "Me Genie. You friend. Right?" he replied in his frozen sneer.

"Yup, I guess you can say that. I'm your friend. So, Genie, have you ever seen more than a basement full of barrels and whiskey?"

"No. I always been trapped down there. My old not anymore friends, they look like me, punished me for being friendly to puny. When bigger puny, Redding, find me he give me name and food."

"That's interesting; never realized you guys knew more than killing and eating." I looked up again to make sure I hadn't insulted him, but still no success in trying to read his expression.

As evening approached, we came closer to another small settlement called Dansfield. As far as small settlements were concerned, however, this was a metropolis. The entire town was inside a tall building about sixteen stories. The place used to be a hospital, so it's a great area to find medical attention. Of course, it's better to find a Mister Gutsy that's still working properly than trust any of the people who read what they know from a two hundred year old book.

"Hey, big guy, listen, I have to stop by here to get some supplies for our trip, but the thing is the people there likely won't react too well to your being around. So, stay here and wait for me, and I'll be back before you know it. Okay?"

"Okay, friend, but please come back."

"Yeah, no problem, I'll be back." I looked at the big, friendly giant with a reassuring look. I was astonished by this one. I could have sworn that these were killing machines but this one doesn't have a deadly bone in his body.

As I reached the only working entrance to Dansfield guards on various lookout points aimed their guns at me. I wasn't too concerned that they'd shoot me; it's probably just protocol. That's when someone fired a shot that landed in the dirt in front of my foot stopping me in my tracks.

"That's close enough," someone shouted from one of the windows. I couldn't make out from where the voice was. "Place any firearms and other weapons you may have on to the ground in front of you and step back two paces with your hands in the air." I obeyed. "Good. Now wait there. I'll be down shortly."

I sat there quietly in the setting sun with my hands in the air. A light wind picked up behind me further adding to the unsettling calm. My arms began to have a numb feeling starting at the fingers and working its way down. A bead of sweat started to trickle down my nose irritating it. I didn't dare scratch, however.

The doors of Dansfield slowly opened with a loud metal-against-metal screech and behind them three figures waited until the door opened. Two tall, well-built, similar-looking men, possibly twins, walked just behind a shorter, skinnier individual. He donned a cowboy hat with a comically large brim and brandished a shiny revolver in his right hand. The large guards carried some homemade contraption that resembled a giant crossbow that shot harpoons. One of the guards was left-handed so the two mirrored each other constantly. The three men stopped about seven feet in front of me.

"Hi, there," the smaller one said unenthusiastically. He was the voice earlier. "Now, what is your business here in my town?" The right-handed guard shifted a little.

"I just wanted to buy some supplies…possibly trade some of my own things." I said without taking my gaze off the large man. "Is that a problem?" I looked at the midget cowboy.

"Just makin' sure you won't be a nuisance to the townfolk that's all." He holstered his pistol and put his thumbs in his pockets. "We've had some growing bandit trouble, lately. We had to put up more sentries and even install the new doors. It used to be open for people to come and go but not anymore."

"Oh, well, that's too bad." I don't know if I was really concerned or if I just wanted to lower my sore arms.

"Yes, it is. Now, you can go about your business but you must get what you need quickly and go. We also have to confiscate your weapons during your time inside. Understood?"

"No problem." I assumed it was safe to lower my arms. When I did, the blood rushed quickly to my fingers emitting a sudden warm sensation about my arm. It felt odd, but comforting. I reached out my hand to shake with the little guard. "I haven't had the pleasure."

"I'm Dan." He said without taking notice of my advance, possible intentionally. He spat at the ground. "And these two here are my brothers, Dover and Jim."


	6. The Diplomacy of Dansfield II

The corridors inside the makeshift town were crammed with people. It was hard to concentrate on just one person. As I followed Dan and his brothers through the first floor I wondered how it was possible for all these people to live here. There can't possibly be that much room in this abandoned hospital.

"Mind your pockets." Dan shouted over the commotion without looking back. "A lot of the folks here have wandersome hands. Especially the little ones." I suddenly had an urge to look downward. I met eyes with a little girl who suddenly disappeared in the crowd. I patted myself to notice that my lighter was missing. Damn.

"Why is it so crowded?" I asked while paying close attention to those around me.

"Beats me. Doesn't matter much, so long as they don't cause any real trouble."

"But considering the recent attacks wouldn't you want to keep track of everybody?"

"It's been like this long before the attacks. Ever since the days of my father, founder and lifelong mayor, Dan Senior. I have more important concerns, Mister, so stop pestering me with inane questions." He stopped before a hole in the wall that exposed a crowded stairwell. "This is where we part. You should find most everything you need down here on the first floor. Enjoy your stay."

"What about my gun?"

"It'll be waiting for you when you leave." Dan nodded my way and then made his way up the stairs. His large brothers obediently followed.

I walked about the first floor of the crowded building looking for something that interested me. This area seemed to be a strip mall of sorts, each room a venue for different odds and ends. One store sold different kinds of "fresh" meat. Another man boasted having the best painkiller in the tri-floor area. One woman just sold bones of different kinds. Apparently she did very well because she had just put up a sign stating 'SOLD OUT.' I wondered what useful applications bones had when I came upon a gun store. Finally, I can trade up.

When I entered three dogs surrounded me sniffing and pawing me. When I looked up I noticed a very attractive woman behind a desk wiping a shotgun with a rag. She looked up and smiled charmingly, "Welcome! Take a look around. See anything you like, give me a holler. All prices are negotiable."

"Thank you." I couldn't help smiling at the lady. She had this appeal that made you want to be a gentleman. I slowly circled the shop looking at all the toys. They were organized neatly into type and condition. It was like a thrift shop for guns. A somewhat rusted 10mm caught my eye but an M1 carbine nearby is what I grabbed. "How much for this?"

"That? Hmm, how does fifty caps sound?"

"Fifty? Wow, that's a deal! I'll take it." I walked over to her and placed fifty bottle caps on the desk. "You must be doing pretty well to be offering deals like that."

"Eh, just offering some menial protection for people out in the Wastes." She collected the caps in a drawer and grabbed the rifle from my hand. "Now, I have to give this to the checkout guy. You can get it from him when you leave. The guy next door sells ammo. Just tell him what you need."

"Thanks for the help."

"No problem. Have a good one." I left the gun store excited to test my new toy once I left. I planned on spending the rest of my caps on bullets since I wouldn't really need anything else. However, fate had other things in mind.

Directly across the gun store was what used to be two rooms but most of the walls have been torn down. A curtain was drawn to cover the hole and whatever activities were going on behind them. I could hear music and inebriated banter behind the fabric. I went to investigate.

As I suspected, a bar was conveniently placed in my path. I approached the make shift counter and nodded to the bartender. He nodded back and asked what I wanted to drink. I said, "A lot of whiskey."


	7. DUI

I woke up suddenly from a deep sleep. I was on my back on cold, hard concrete. I had no shirt on and my duster was gone as well. There was an awful pain in my left leg. When I lifted my pant leg to see what it was my entire leg below my knee and above my ankle was wrapped. The bandage had a stain of dried blood that seemed to come from two different points on opposite sides of my leg as if something had pierced it.

I looked around and noticed where I was. Surrounding me were unevenly placed bars. Clearly, it was another makeshift addition to the hospital town. I was in the jail of Dansfield. I didn't have much time to ponder my current status when a sudden bout of nausea sent me keeling over the aptly placed toilet. When I was done throwing up my stomach I heard footsteps coming my way. I peered over the porcelain bowl and saw Dan approaching me with an annoyed look on his face.

"Never in all my life as a resident and mayor of Dansfield have I seen the likes of you." He pulled up a chair and sat very close to the bars. He sat with his legs far apart, leaning forward with his arms supporting his upper half on his thighs. He had a manila folder in one hand. "I thought the bandits were a problem for us."

I wiped my mouth with my arm and leaned against the toilet. "Now, I'm sorry, but what happened." The single light bulb that hung overhead shone brightly forcing me to squint somewhat.

"I expected you wouldn't remember. Seeing as how you practically drank my bar dry." He opened the folder and put on a pair of small reading glasses that was laced around his neck. "Let's see. Now, this is a long report so bare with me."

-About 9:30 last night, the perpetrator ("that's you") stepped into Bill's First Aide and ordered multiple shots of whiskey. An hour passed, but the perpetrator requested more alcohol from the bartender. After he refused to serve anymore alcohol to the already intoxicated individual, the perpetrator became belligerent and started screaming for more alcohol. He was told to leave the bar and get some sleep. The perpetrator then hopped over the counter and grabbed two bottles of whiskey. When the bartender attempted to stop the individual, the perpetrator then shattered one of the bottles against the counter and waved it menacingly at the owner. He then hopped over the counter and left the bar.

According to multiple witness reports the perpetrator drank the bottle very quickly and started running down the halls screaming multiple obscenities and tackled any individual who was unlucky enough to encounter said criminal. The individual then engaged in numerous fights with guards and citizens in which two individuals ended up hospitalized. The perpetrator then broke into and barricaded his self in the local gun store.

According to Susan Boyle, owner and operator of the gun store, the perpetrator pushed multiple shelves and furniture against the door and began pacing back and forth in the store. When Ms. Boyle went to investigate the commotion the perpetrator removed most of his clothing and attempted to subdue her and engage in unmerited sexual activities. To his chagrin, she verbally and physically refused and subdued the perpetrator herself in self defense. He then pushed Ms. Boyle away and fled out the store via a different exit toward the rear.

For the remainder of the perpetrator's antics, he was pursued by myself; Dan, mayor and son of former mayor and founder Dan Senior, Jim, and Dover. He would have likely gotten away if Dover had not shot him with his Enforcer Crossbow. The harpoon pierced the individual's left leg just behind the fibula. Despite being severely injured the perpetrator continued to resist arrest and would later not cooperate with the legal proceedings required by Dansfield law.—

"Two counts of theft, three counts of disturbing the peace, twelve counts of intent to harm another individual, fifteen counts of destruction of property, one count of public consumption of alcohol, one count of public intoxication, six counts of fighting, four counts of assault, two counts of assaulting an officer, three counts of attempted murder, one count of breaking and entering, one count of kidnapping, one count of taking of a hostage, one count of exposing oneself, one count of sexual harassment, one count of sexual assault, one count of attempted rape, one count of public indecency, three counts of evading an officer, four counts of resisting arrest, and three counts of refusing to cooperate." Dan removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose and looked toward me. "You have yourself quite a hefty list, my friend. We would offer you a fair trial but seeing as you are not a citizen of Dansfield I can't guarantee you due process."

I sat with my jaw to the floor. I expected as much, but this definitely tops the last time. I opened my mouth to say something but I was interrupted by two guards that hurried in from where Dan had entered earlier.

"Sir, we have a problem on the main entrance!" The first guard said exasperated.

"What is it?"

"A super mutant is attacking the front wall."

"What?" Dan gasped with astonishment. "Damn it! Okay, get as many guards as you can to defend the front gates. I'll get my brothers." The guards ran the way they came and Dan began to follow but stopped. He turned around and looked at me. "You and I aren't through." Then he disappeared.

I must have been in the basement because the makeshift prison was placed amidst several large furnaces. I looked for a way out; maybe there was a loose bar or something. I found a space between two bars that I could fit through and I escaped without a sweat. I found a footlocker next to a desk in the corner of the room. It had my clothes and other belongings. I hastily put them on and headed the way Dan left.

I found a stairway leading upstairs. As I climbed up I heard the frightened screams of people and an array of gunfire. It was most definitely Genie. That big mutie saves the day again. I reached the first floor to pandemonium. It shouldn't be too hard to slip by unnoticed. I reached the front entrance in time to see Genie at his best. Bullets were just bouncing off his iron skin as he grabbed a guard and tossed him into an approaching group. I slipped behind a circular desk and peeked through a hole to see the action.

Dan had just arrived with his giant brothers. The two combined still couldn't match the size of Genie. I looked to the side and noticed a crate filled with various items. I saw my .38 and my new carbine. I grabbed the guns and peered through the hole again. I laughed gleefully to myself at the attraction. But then I noticed the left-handed brute set up a mini-nuke onto a Fat Man.

My mind started racing for a solution as the big brother stepped outside to launch it at Genie. I got up and vaulted over the desk and ran toward Genie. That's when Dan saw me and he went to pull out his gun when I rushed him and knocked him over. The other brother went to help Dan up instead of trying to stop me. I grabbed his shiny revolver and continued running. When I reached the other giant I pointed Dan's pistol at him.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" I couldn't think of anything better to say. The guy looked at me and just smiled. He pulled the trigger and the mini-nuke launched. I reacted with a blind shot from the revolver. The stray bullet hit the mini-nuke in mid air and exploded in front of the big twin's face. It sent me flying back several yards. Everything went quiet. When I gathered myself up to see the damage all that was left of the brute was a burn mark on the ground.

I took that time to run to Genie and flee. "Hey, big guy, time to get out of here. We're in big trouble."

"You scared me, friend. When you said you would be back soon and you did not come back soon I thought they were hurting you."

"Heh, if only you knew, big guy, if only you knew."


	8. Unfortunate Allies

"Shit!" I tossed the carbine to the side as I contemplated my situation. I sat there in the dirt with three guns: an old .38 revolver with four rounds, a shiny .45; Dan's Revolver, with five rounds, and an M1 carbine with no rounds. I didn't even know what type of bullets they needed. I looked up past the small fire I had made toward Genie. "At least I have you."

"The sky. Pretty." He sat in an awkward indescribable position gazing at the stars.

"That they are, friend." I looked up for a moment, too. I wasn't as interested or amazed by the sky, but you couldn't deny a sight like that. It's usually masked by dust in the sky, so when it is clear you don't think to look up some times. "Listen, I'm going to get some shut-eye. You just keep looking up. Good night."

"Pretty."

When I awoke the next morning the bright sun shone directly above me. However, it was a pretty cool day, so I removed my duster and let the breeze cool my skin. I noticed Genie lying on his back still looking at the sky. "Hey, big guy, you know you can go blind looking at the sun like that?"

"But it's pretty."

"So are women, but I try to steer clear for health reasons. You should do the same."

"Okay." He sat up and stared directly at me. "What we do today."

"Beats me. We should probably find another town or something so I can get some supplies. Dansfield didn't work out exactly." I noticed my stomach move. "Mm. What do you eat, Genie?"

"I like cereal, but meat is good, too. But I like cereal."

"Cereal it is, then." I scanned the horizon. To my right, Dansfield was just a lonely tower fading in the sun. Directly in front of me I noticed a Brahmin. Next to it was a dog and two people. "Great. Traders."

The group stopped short and began taking cover behind the cart that the Brahmin was pulling. I heard a crack and Genie lunged forward. He either groaned in pain or anger, but the bullet hadn't pierced the back of his head. That's when I got up and started waving my hands so they'd stop. They must have misinterpreted my gestures because they continued to shoot at my bodyguard-friend.

"Stop! Stop! He's a good mutant! …If that makes sense." I heard a bullet whiz past my ear. I ducked down and covered my face with my arm. The shooting stopped and I took the time to get back up and run toward them. "Stop shooting, please!" I shouted while running and then I heard another crack from one of the rifles. This time a bullet grazed my right arm. I clutched it and fell forward. I lied on my side holding my tightly.

"Look at that! You shot him!"

"Sorry. He was in the way."

"I think the freak is down. Let's go help this guy."

I looked at the horizon sideways and breathed heavily through my nose to ease the pain. I heard the sound of feet shuffling on dirt growing. Two sets of feet stopped in front of my eyes. I didn't dare look up out of anger. "The mutant…won't…hurt you." I said in between burns of pain.

"What? Really?" The pair of combat boots said. "Hmm. Wow."

"Aw, I can't believe you made me shoot at that poor thing." The worn pair of sneakers said. He had a younger tone, possible the combat boot's son.

"He's still a super mutant, kid. Still dangerous." The combat boots kneeled down and I got a look at his face. He was a scruffy, middle-aged man with a salt-n-pepper stubble growing untidily on his face. He had strong, masculine features. He had deep-set faded light brown eyes and bushy gray eyebrows. He had a dark complexion; a combination of being in the sun constantly and dirt. "Sorry about that, Sir, the kid still needs some shootin' work. Let's get you up." He helped me sit up.

I looked at my shooter. He was a tall, skinny teenager with a lighter complexion than the older man. He had a baseball cap that pushed down curly brown hair. He didn't look as weathered as the other guy, but he was growing a small beard on his chin which somewhat made him look older. He wore a white t-shirt covered in dirt and dried mud. He had a pair of jeans that were torn at both knees. The other man had about the same thing except he had various pads adorned on his shoulders, chest elbows, and knees.

"Sorry, Mister." He kneeled down, too.

"No problem. Wouldn't be the first time."

"I'm Carl," the older man said, "And this is Dale."

"My pleasure." I helped myself up and dusted myself off. I looked back at Genie who was rubbing the back of his head where he was struck. "Will you excuse me?" I ran over to Genie and kneeled toward him. "Hey, big guy, what's up? You okay?"

"I'm okay. Head hurt bad."

"Okay, that's good. Just keep rubbing it. Listen, I'm going to get some cereal from these guys, okay. You just stay here."

"Okay." I patted the giant on his shoulder and ran past him back toward the traders.

""Wow, that's quite a sight." Carl took his worn trucker-styled hat off and scratched the top of his head. "How'd you tame him?"

"I didn't." I looked back at Genie. He was playing with the dirt. "He's just different, really."

"Huh. So how can I make up for our little mistake?"

"You can patch me up and give me some cereal for the big guy if you have any."

Carl smiled, "We have plenty!"


End file.
